


Marry Me and Mean It

by forgetmequite



Series: A Noble Man's Marriage [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Regency, M/M, POV Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetmequite/pseuds/forgetmequite
Summary: The last thing Magnus expected in his life was for a shadowhunter to propose marriage to him.





	Marry Me and Mean It

**Author's Note:**

> This is now officially a series! 
> 
> Highly, highly recommend reading the first part in the series before this one, or otherwise this is quite hard to follow because it assumes knowledge of the first part.

Magnus sighed. He had been waiting for the shadowhunter in his waiting room to get bored and leave, but three hours in, that seemed increasingly unlikely.

He pulled up an image of the waiting room with a spell, and almost choked on his tongue.

The shadowhunter was attractive, about Magnus’s height with long legs, and made even more enticing by the book he was reading, clearly intent on and prepared to wait for as long as Magnus was going to make him.

"Who are you?" fell from Magnus's lips before he could help it.

That settled it. He'd better see about this gorgeous mystery shadowhunter and find out what tedious business he was expecting Magnus to aid him in. There was nothing quite as effective for getting rid of attraction to a shadowhunter as talking to one for half a minute.

With a snap of his fingers, Magnus opened the door to his study. The well-oiled hinges made no sound, so it wasn’t a surprise when the shadowhunter didn’t immediately seize upon the invitation. Still, Magnus wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of appearing at the door to specifically ask him in.

A rather loud, clearly faked cough would do.

There was a quiet sound, as if the shadowhunter had slammed his book shut abruptly, and a few seconds later, he towered in Magnus’s doorway, clearly deferential but obviously still hoping to enter.

“Mr Bane, good afternoon. May- May I come in?”

Magnus sat back and affected an air of boredom. “Since you’ve already invited yourself into my hall, I suppose you might as well intrude further.”

The shadowhunter arched his eyebrow and didn’t bring up that Magnus’s butler had opened the door for him and told him to wait in the hall, which Magnus well knew.

“My name is Alec Lightwood,” he said instead.

Magnus could barely suppress his groan. Of course the gorgeous stranger right on his doorstep wasn’t just any shadowhunter, but a shadowhunter of a noble lineage, to use their own terms.

“And what do you expect me to do for you, Lord Lightwood?” Magnus asked, emphasising the title in a way that stole all of its authority.

“I hope you’ll consider my proposition. Um, proposal, actually.”

“About what?”

“What are proposals usually about?” The words could have been hostile, except Alec Lightwood met Magnus’s gaze and smiled just for a second before biting his lip. It was probably a nervous tick, but it held a promise, even if accidental, of something else. “I hope you’ll consider marriage. To me.”

At over four hundred years old, Magnus was rarely surprised; whatever happened, there was at least that tiny nagging feeling that it had already happened to him before.

This, though, was genuinely unprecedented.

Magnus was going to find the trick in it, because there had to be one, but he had to genuinely hand it to Alec Lightwood; the man deserved full points for originality.

“And why would you hope that?” he asked and then added, as if the first question had been just a prelude, “And whatever makes you think that I’ll even consider?”

Alec Lightwood’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Magnus certainly had only normal thoughts about that.

“I was hoping,” Lightwood said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out something, “that returning this might garner me enough goodwill for you to hear me out.”

He approached Magnus without being asked, which was all well and good because when Magnus caught a glimpse of the thing Lightwood was offering him, he was rendered speechless anyway.

He extended his hand on autopilot and accepted the ruby necklace that had been his, several centuries and millions of memories ago. It was only with tremendous effort that he managed to close his mouth and look up at Alec Lightwood again.

Who _are_ you, echoed in his head again.

Magnus forced himself to speak. “I hope you are aware that now that it’s in my possession, you’re never getting it back again.”

“It was not a bargaining chip,” Lightwood said and bit his lip again. Magnus really should stop looking at it. “Although I do hope getting it back has convinced you to hear me out.”

It hadn’t so much been the fact that he’d finally got back the necklace that had convinced Magnus – shadowhunters made deals all the time to get what they wanted – but that Alec Lightwood had been so easy to part with it. Nevertheless, there was no reason to let the man know how much he’d impressed Magnus. He’d heard good things about Lady Isabelle Lightwood, but clearly the family on the whole had improved considerably from the previous generation.

“Speak, then.”

Alec Lightwood cleared his throat. “My father has all but bankrupted our family. Nevertheless, we have an influential name and the hereditary power that entails, not to mention a large amount of family heirlooms you’d undoubtedly like to see returned to their rightful owners. You possess a vast fortune and, I understand, would like political influence also in those circles you’ve been denied entry to. It seems to me the easiest way to make a discrete exchange is a marriage.”

Magnus sought his face for any hint of deceit, but he found none.

Alec Lightwood was right, he had to admit. On the surface, it was a proposition worth Magnus’s consideration. There were large amounts of Shadowhunter nobles whose opinions were for sale, of course, but the problem was that they rarely felt any need to stay true to their promises once they’d got what they wanted. There was no guarantee on Alec Lightwood’s honour, either, but if the Lightwoods truly were nearing bankruptcy and Magnus had proof of that, such as a marriage contract, he would have collateral to destroy the whole family and thus could at least to some extent be assured of Alec doing as he was told.

Of course, it was an enormous decision with far-reaching consequences. Magnus wouldn’t be making it today.

“You’ve won my consideration, Alec Lightwood,” he said, letting his eyes flash gold. Lightwood’s eyes widened a fraction, but his look was neither shocked nor disgusted. “I’ll send word when I’ve made my decision.”

\---

Magnus had to barely wait for an hour after sending off his fire message for Alec Lightwood to come knocking. Of course, he hadn’t exactly been waiting; he’d started reading seven books, reorganised his quills four different ways and written two brusque business letters, all the while trying to tell himself that he was not nervous about the conversation that would take place as soon as Alec Lightwood would deign to call on him.

Mercifully, it appeared as if Alec had left as soon as he’d received the message. That made sense, logically speaking; it was Alec’s family’s reputation that depended on Magnus’s decision. Of course he’d prioritise a meeting, even if the uncertainty in Magnus’s stomach found it hard to believe.

But however uncertain he was, he would rather die than let Alec see that. So, when Alec was seen to his study, Magnus was sitting in his desk chair, feet carelessly propped up on the edge of his desk, browsing a journal.

“Good evening, Mr Bane.”

Magnus looked up from the journal and found it easy to give Alec a delightfully wicked smile.

“You,” he said, setting his feet down on the floor, “neglected to mention last time that your full name was _Alexander_.”

Alec didn’t flinch. He did, however, blush just the tiniest bit.

“You’ve done your research,” he said. “I would have expected nothing less.”

His abashed look, however, told Magnus that he certainly had not been expecting Magnus to focus on that detail. Good. Not at least Magnus was not the only one feeling off-footed in the conversation.

He had done his research, of course, also into the topics Alec had most likely expected. Some discreet queries had confirmed Alec’s account of his family’s financial state. Robert Lightwood was notorious in all the wrong circles, and Magnus had always known the man to be a fool; it made sense he’d be atrocious at finance as well. Furthermore, Alec had a seat in the Lord’s Council, and Magnus would indeed find it highly advantageous to have sway over the votes cast there.

“Well, then,” Magnus said. “What, exactly, are you offering? You’re a diplomat by training, I’m sure you’ve thought of detailed conditions.”

Alec shifted his weight from one foot to another. “To start with, any objects my family possesses that you can find a previous owner to, or an heir to whom it would mean something. I’ll leave an exact inventory to your discretion.”

Magnus raised an eyebrow. “You must be aware that means most of your family heirlooms.”

Alec’s gaze met his, steady. “Yes.”

“Very well. I accept that as a beginning. And your political influence?”

Alec blinked, and for a second Magnus expected him to make another sweeping offer. Instead, however, Alec raised his jaw and his expression turned to one of an experienced negotiator. One who enjoyed the process.

It was unfair how much more attractive it managed to render his already handsome face.

“What would you suggest?”

“Your seat at the Lords’ Council. Give me control over your votes, and we just might have a deal.”

Alec let out a laugh. “We both know it’s more valuable to you than that. Complete control over one vote of your choice per month, and unlimited access to convince me on any other issues you wish to go a certain way.”

Magnus regarded him for a moment in silence. He’d reviewed Alec’s political record already as part of his research, of course. It was passable, from Magnus’s point of view. Truth be told, it could hardly be anything better given the motions put to vote, which tended to not include any genuinely good options. What made the offer tempting was that Magnus had got a strong impression of a man who had strong convictions and acted on them. So, unlimited access to convince him might actually turn out the more valuable part of the proposition if everything were to go well.

If. That was the risk, but then again, Magnus Bane hadn’t got to where he was by avoiding risks.

“You sell out your vote very easily, shadowhunter.”

“And you’ve without a doubt paid for Council votes earlier, Mr Bane, so that should hardly be new information to you.”

The words delighted Magnus. Some shadowhunters – most, unless he’d had really rotten luck – preferred to think of the Lords’ Council as a pure organ of government where members acted on good faith to serve the best interests of everyone. Trying to avoid references to the more tawdry and corrupt reality was irritating.

“Touché, Alexander. I would require a detailed written contract, of course.”

Furthering the good impression he’d given of himself, Alec didn’t look surprised. “Of course. Will you have your lawyer contact mine?”

Magnus smiled at him. It was not a friendly smile, he knew, but rather one that Raphael had once claimed looked like he was trying to appear dangerous.

“No need.” He snapped his fingers, and the marriage contract he’d pre-written before sending Alec the message appeared. A quick spell settled the details into correct order. “You can of course take it to your lawyer, if you’d prefer.”

Alec walked up to the desk and took the contract. Magnus made a game of rolling his eyes as Alec read through every page; the display was rather disingenuous, because he expected nothing less than for Alec to check every detail. It was the prudent thing to do, and despite this whole situation, Alec seemed a prudent man.

“Have you a quill?” Alec finally asked.

Magnus magicked one onto the desk and nudged it towards Alec. “You first.”

Alec took the quill and signed before offering it to Magnus.

The sight of Alec’s clearly legible, neat signature that fit very well on the line assigned to it (Magnus suspected young shadowhunter men studied both calligraphy and suppressing your imagination) almost made him falter, but Magnus had made his decision and given himself ample time to reconsider, and now was not the time to hesitate, especially in front of a man Magnus was ready to trust him exactly as far as he could throw him, and perhaps a few yards more. He added his own airy script next to it. It took over twice the space that Alec’s had.

“Now that that’s done,” he said with confidence he didn’t feel, “I’d prefer it if you were to approach the silent brothers about the banns. We’ll discuss the date later.”

\---

“You’ll ruin that suit if you fiddle with it one more second.”

Magnus turned away from the window to glare at Raphael. “I’ve seen the clothes you wore as a youth, and I won’t be taking fashion advice from a man who-“

“Calm down, children,” Catarina said from where she was seated on the sofa, seemingly focused on her embroidery to pass the time. “I was up with old Mrs Smith until dawn, you’re going to give me a headache.”

Magnus fell silent. He was on edge, and Raphael clearly thinking he was making a mistake didn’t much help matters. It rather made Magnus wonder if Raphael wasn’t correct.

He’d agreed to Alexander Lightwood’s proposition because it had clear and tangible benefits to him that were only likely to multiply with time. That was a sound basis for a tactical union, and well, there was no getting around the fact that Alec’s face and figure were no hardship for Magnus to look at. That he could grow very fond of his future husband if given the chance had not weighted much in his calculations, but he had noted it when making them. He could very well stomach sharing his life with Alec.

Of course, that had been when Magnus had been thinking with his brain. The closer the hands of the clock ticked to his wedding, however, the more Magnus’s heart demanded to be heard.

Alec had chosen to marry him because he needed money quickly and discreetly to save his entire family from disgrace. Magnus didn’t object to marriage of convenience on principle, not even for himself, but the thought that the alternative to this one, for Alec, had been utter catastrophe did not escape him.

It didn’t escape him, but it _did_ turn his stomach if he allowed himself to think about it.

Magnus had no particular sympathy for shadowhunters, but this wasn’t about that. He was selfish enough not to want to live his life knowing that the person by his side was suffering a life sentence.

If they were to be married, he had to make sure Alec had had the option not to.

“I need to go,” he said, marching for the door. “I’ll see you downstairs in half an hour.”

“If you’ve got any sense, you-“

Magnus slammed the door shut and didn’t have to hear the end of Raphael’s sentence.

\---

Hand poised to knock on Alec’s door, Magnus finally allowed himself to acknowledge what he’d been thinking for several weeks.

There was no if to ‘if they were to be married’. There was just the bare fact that only his self-sacrificing quest to save his family had ever induced Alec to put himself in this situation. Magnus was not offering him a choice; he was giving Alec his freedom.

\---

Magnus had taken Alec’s hand. It had been a reflex, and it was probably for the best that he had, because the steady grip of Alec’s hand felt like the only thing keeping Magnus tethered to the ground and to reality.

As for his other hand, Magnus was using a considerable amount of willpower to stop himself from raising it to his mouth, as if his fingers could somehow verify that his lips truly had been on Alec’s mere minutes before.

It already felt like a dream. Lord Alexander Lightwood, a respected and noble shadowhunter, kissing a warlock, and not just any warlock but the most notorious of them all, because he wanted to.

“Wait,” Magnus said as the end of the corridor loomed ahead of them and the grand staircase was just ten yards away. After stepping there, there would be no privacy for them.

Alec came to a halt and wasted no time turning to Magnus, expression soft and open. “What is it?”

“Do you want this?” Magnus asked.

The kiss had made clear that Alec wanted _him_ , but that was not- Alec wouldn’t be the first person to want the illicit thrill and neglect to realise that it came attached to a person with feelings. Magnus had to make sure, for his own sake, before they’d create a bond that was practically impossible to break.

Alec’s free hand found Magnus’s. “I’ve wanted this since we negotiated the contract.”

“I don’t mean legalities.” The words hurt in his mouth. “I mean-“

“You misunderstand.” Alec swallowed audibly. “I wanted the marriage since I realised it would save my family, and I wanted you the second I saw you. But ever since we negotiated that contract, I- You challenged me and I enjoyed every second of it. That was when I realised that this, _us_ , could be the best thing that ever happened to me, if you-“

Alec looked down, and Magnus understood.

“I want this,” he said. “Marry me and mean it. Please.”

A few heavy breaths, and Alec rested his forehead against Magnus’s. “I will. I do.”

Magnus kissed him then, because Alec was just so close and tempting and they both wanted to. That, Magnus reflected as Alec reached up to cradle the side of Magnus’s face with his hand, was certainly a sound basis for a proper marriage.


End file.
